


It Was Only 30 Minutes.

by The_Magic_Rat



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29651151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Magic_Rat/pseuds/The_Magic_Rat
Summary: You can't leave Crowley alone for a minute.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 47





	It Was Only 30 Minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm stressed, I've been editing, I needed a break and this came out.

Good Omens - It Was Only 30 Minutes.

Author: The Magic Rat  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Crowley/Aziraphale.  
Warnings: Squirrels.  
Word Count: 275

Website – Ex Libris: http://www.winter-wood.net/ex-libris/index.html  
Live Journal: http://delaese.livejournal.com/profile

Disclaimer: All Good Omens characters, places and situations are the property of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, and are used without permission and without intent of plagiarism or profit. Copyright for all stories and original characters is with the author, and may not be published, copied, distributed or archived without the author's prior written consent.

Summary: You can't leave Crowley alone for a minute.

Author’s notes: I'm stressed, I've been editing, I needed a break and this came out.

~*~*~*~*~*~

One half hour. Thirty minutes. That was how long Aziraphale had been gone. Just long enough to collect Anathema at the bus stop and come back. Crowley had managed to contract some sort of illness, likely the flu, and Aziraphale needed advice as to how to handle it. They hurried back to the cottage, walked into the living area, and stopped.

The noise was utterly indescribable - thirty roombas, all lurching and bumping and whirling, and each one ridden by an enraged war-squirrel. Fifteen were in tiny red uniforms, fifteen in blue, each armed with some sort of nerf-sword and twatting each other over the head while shrieking. Bundled up on the sofa was Crowley, flesh grey, trembling slightly, but arms crossed and an expression of No Regrets as he watched the squirrels battle.

"What's all this?!" Aziraphale demanded, not knowing if he should laugh or be outraged.

"Don't ask me," said Crowley, sniffling. "It was supposed to chicken soup and a cup of tea."


End file.
